Tome of the Necromancer, Part 2: The Earliest Days
by Artemissan
Summary: The tale of Raithe's first adventure


**THE EARLIEST DAYS**

By: John Brengman

The dark-robed half-elven traveller walked along the country road at night, headed for the small villiage of Soren, which was located a few days journey north of the great port city of Gelia. The elf brushed his sandy brown hair out of his eyes and looked up at the star-speckled heavens, looking for the moon, which he soon found hovering in the eastern sky.

Continuing onward, the elf soon came to the edge of the forest that surrounded a large hill like a fortress wall. The road wound its ways lazily up the hill, and the elf followed it, clutching his black robes closer to his body to protect himself from the cool breezes that carressed the hill.

As he neared the top of the hill, the dark-robed elf saw an iron fence surrounding a small graveyard. As he drew nearer, he saw the tombstones as they arose from the tall grass to greet him with messages of those who had passed on.

The elf climbed the fence and mingled among the graves, running his finger delicately over the stone engraved names of people long dead. He sat down with his back against a large tombstone, his legs spread wide apart. Retrieving a small black bag from within his robes the mage began to spread spell components in front of him: a small bone, a bowl, a grinding stone, and a black candle.

Using the bowl and the grinding stone, the elf turned the bone into a fine white powder, and while he did this, he quietly murmured the incantations of a spell. He then poured half of the bone-powder onto the ground in front of him and waited. Nothing happened.

The mage was about to mix some more spell components when he heard someone approaching, his footsteps betrayed by the swishing of the grass. The elf quickly sat back against the tombstone and waited as the shuffling sound drew nearer. As the man passed by the tombstone, the mage slipped his right leg out into his path, tripping him. The stranger tumbled to a heap in front of the elf.

The young blonde man quickly rose from the ground and turned to face the mage. With embarrassment showing on his face, the man growled. "Who are you?"

"My name is Raithe."

"And just what are you doing?" the man inquired, eyeing the spell components which were spread out on the ground.

"I am practicing a spell, and since we are on the subject," Raithe's whispery voice asked, "why are you here?"

Instead of answering the mage directly, the stranger knelt to examine the spell components more closely. "These are necromantic, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"You're a necromancer."

"Yes."

The stranger thought this over. Finally, "I may be able to use your skills." He said. "I'm Tol, and I want to take over this villiage, to free it from the heavy yoke of a corrupt mayor and a sheriff who's under the mayor's thumb. What I need is for you to kill the mayor and the sheriff. I will be watching you to be sure that you are not noticed. After both the mayor and the sheriff are out of the way, I can take over the town, and you can do anything you want while you're here." He paused. "Well, what do you think?"

He waited while Raithe thought about the deal. In his line of work, it could be a wise move to have someplace to hide...

"Okay," Raithe replied. "When do you want me to start?"

"Tonight," Tol answered.

Raithe entered the small villiage of Soren, which was situated in a valley on the other side of the hill from where the graveyard had been built. Even at night, the town was dominated by the church, with its tall steeple pointingstraight up into a star-filled sky. Very few lights were lit in the town; it was just after midnight.

Tol had told Raithe where the mayor's house was. The mage quickly made his way there, certain that no one who would be out at this time of night would notice him. When he got to the mayor's house, he tested the door casually and found it was unlocked. After making sure that he would not be seen, Raithe quickly entered the two-story house and closed the door behind him.

It was too dark to see any details, but Raithe could tell by the furniture that he was in a living room. On the far side of the room was the entrance into a kitchen alcove and a flight of narrow stairs which led up to the sleeping chambers.

Raithe crept quietly up the stairs and into the second floor hallway. There was another flight of stairs that led up to an attic, and two doors were located on the left side of the hall. Raithe passed the stairs, went to the first door and opened it enough to look inside the room. The dark mage saw two children, sound asleep, totally unaware of the death that stalked outside their door.

Closing the door, Raithe continued down the hall. When he came to the second door, Raithe opened it and slipped silently into the room. Quietly the mage unslung his morningstar, a short bar of metal attached to a spiked ball by a chain. Holding the weapon at the ready, he stalked toward the bed and the two figures asleep there. The mage didn't like having to resort to using purely physical means to accomplish this task, but he was too inexperienced in spellcasting to trust his magical abilities just yet.

Just as Raithe drew near to the bed, he stepped on a loose board that creaked loudly. The mayor woke up to see the face of the necromancer leering down at him. He tried to lunge for his sword, which was hanging by its scabbard from the bedpost, but the mage brought his morningstar crashing down on the mayor's head. Blood splattered on the wall, and the mayor slumped back in the bed, his eyes staring blankly at the dark mage with the gaze of death.

Unfortunately, the mayor's wife was awakened by the nearby scuffle. She screamed. Raithe glared at her angrily and brought his weapon up rapidly, silencing the screams permanently. Scanning the room, the mage noted that the only window in the mayor's bedroom was shut.

After the children had been dealt with, the dark mage started looking for a place to hide. He couldn't leave the house now because surely the screams of the mayor's wife had disturbed someone's sleep, and town guards would soon arrive to investigate.

As Raithe was looking around, he noticed a stairway to the attic. Retrieving an oil lamp from the children's bedroom, the mage ascended the stairs into the attic. The attic was cluttered with trunks of different sizes. An old suit of chian mail armor guarded one corner, and a spinning wheel sat on the other side of the room in what must have been a sewing room. Cobwebs now dominated the room, and the moonlight that managed to filter through dirt-encrusted window could barely be seen from the top of the stairway.

The mage quickly strode to one of the larger trunks, brushing cobwebs aside as he went. He opened a large green trunk and slipped inside. He then blew out the lantern's light and closed the trunk. As the lid shut, a handle hit the lantern, which fell over. Oil started to seep out onto the hard wooden floor.

The constabulary investigated the mayor's house early the next morning, after the mayor failed to arrive at a town meeting. Finding nothing out of the ordinary on the first floor, they proceeded to the second, where the stiff bodies of the mayor and his family were found. The villiage cleric looked over the bodies very carefully. Finally he stood and looked at the sheriff after examining the mayor.

"All of them were murdered," he said somberly, "probably by a throwing star or a morningstar, judging by the puncture wounds and tears of the skin and flesh on the skull."

"A professional killing?" The sheriff inquired gravely. Neither weapon mentioned as the possible instrument of death in this case was common in these areas.

"I'd say so," came the reply.

The sheriff turned and started toward the door. "I've got work to do then," he said. "Tol, you will give me a complete report when you are done here."

"Yes sir," the blonde lieutenant said, grinning from ear to ear as he saluted, placing his fist over his heart.

"You almost failed!" Tol sneered at the dark mage after he had sent the other guards downstairs. "You were supposed to use your magic!"

"I'm not strong enough yet," Raithe growled in response, reminded of his inexperience in the field of necromancy. "I did what I had to do."

"What about the children?"

"There could be no witnesses."

"Well," Tol said simply, "there will be more police patrols." He paused. "We should call everything off while we both still have our heads."

"No," Raithe's whispery voice shouted. "I can still kill the sheriff, but what about the other officers?"

"They do what I say." Tol replied. "They won't be a problem for you."

"Good, then I'll kill the sheriff tonight."

As Tol walked away from the mayor's house, a young man stepped out of a nearby alley to meet him. He was a stout fellow, with long black hair and busky eyebrows. He saluted Tol in the fashion of the town guard.

"Sir," he said. "The plan goes well?"

"Well enough," Tol replied curtly. He felt uneasy while talking about "the plan" while in a public place. "He will strike this evening. See to it that the others are off duty tonight. Also, keep an eye on our elven friend, but do not interfere with him. Keep me posted as to his whereabouts."

"You don't trust him?"

"I never trust elves." Tol laughed and walked away, leaving the young man to spy on the mayor's house.

The sheriff of the villiage of Soren entered the small room in his home that was reserved for the worship of Verena, the goddess of learning and justice. The room was bare except for the few necessities of worship: a small carpet upon which to kneel on, a flat plate inside a bare circle in front of the carpet, which was used to burn the incense offering, and a large bronze idol of the goddess which sat front of the offering plate. Off on one side of the room sat a washbasin, set atop a pedestal.

The sheriff unclothed himself and donned a loincloth he had taken from the adjoining closet. He then washed his hands and crossed over to a small chest which sat to the right of the idol. Opening the chest, he retrieved a vial of incense and a small lantern.

After lighting the lantern, he removed its top and picked up the incense plate, revealing a small pit underneath. He placed the lantern in the pit, then poured the incense into the plate. He put the plate back down in the center of the circle, being careful not to completely cover the pit. Then the sheriff waited for the first fumes of fragrant smoke to rise from the incense.

When the first pale wisps appeared, the sheriff clutched his hands in front of him and began to pray.

"Oh sweet Lady of Justice," he said somberly, "I postrate myself before you in our villiage's hour of need. A vile murderer has come into our midst and is slaughtering the greatest among us like sheep among wolves."

He continued, begging his goddess for aid in combatting "the terror that stalks us all."

A breeze blew gently through the room. The sheriff stopped his prayer as he saw the incense mists swirl. He felt the cool breeze on his back and he shivered as it caressed his short brown hair. His hair stood up in a futile effort to fight the slight chill.

"Do not be afraid," the wind whispered. "You have summoned me."

"Verena?" The sheriff inquired hopefully.

The breeze answered by caressing his back once more.

"Ask your questions," Verena said softly.

"Who murdered the mayor?"

A face appeared in the mists of the incense smoke. It solidified into half-elven features, with brown hair and silvery eyes.

"Will this man strike again, my lady?"

"Yes," came the reply. The sheriff shuddered at the thought of his peaceful town once again being shaken out of its sleep by screams of terror in the night.

"I most humbly thank you for your gift of this knowledge, my lady," the sheriff said softly as the face faded back into the swirling mists from whence it originated. The breezes then subsided.

A few minutes later, the fully-dressed sheriff left his quiet abode, determined to hunt down the scourge of his village.

**MIDNIGHT:**

The sheriff was quietly walking past the boisterous bars and brothels that lined the main street of the village. Very few guards were watching over the populace. Tol had said that most of them wanted to stay with their families this night, and since the town guard was mostly made up of volunteers, there wasn't much the sheriff could do. However, he reasoned, it would only took one man to catch this killer, but he certainly hoped that this elven menace would be caught before any more atrocities were committed.

"At least Tol is helping watch over the people," the sheriff said aloud to himself. He stepped off the boardwalk to cross an alley. A black-robed figure emerged from the darkness on his left and started down the street.

"Halt," the sheriff ordered, trying to sound calm.

The figure stopped.

"Please turn around."

Raithe turned to face the sheriff. He smiled pleasantly.

"What can I do for you?" The dark mage asked.

A look of realization appeared on the sheriff's face.

"You're him!" He stated, his eyes wide with disbelief that such a man would dare to walk around where he could be seen.

Raithe looked at the sheriff with fake confusion.

"I'm who?"

"You killed the mayor?"

"Really?" Raithe asked, feigning disbelief.

"Really!" The sheriff replied, suddenly angry. "I'm placing you under arrest!"

Raithe's shoulders slumped as if the elf just realized the seriousness of his actions the past night. "I'm glad you caught me," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I've been haunted by an inner voice that remembers each gory moment of the deaths I've caused! Please make it go away!" The mage then continued to mumble incoherently.

The sheriff's face softened. "Okay, okay..."

Raithe threw himself on the other man. "Thank you! Thank you!" His whispery voice rasped. He then grasped the sheriff's hand firmly and shook it, mentally casting his Age spell as the looked earnestly into the other man's eyes.

The dark mage wasn't sure what felt better, the build up of magical energy within his body as the silent spell was successfully cast, or the ebb of that energy as it flowed through his hand and into his victim. No matter how the build up or the ebb of his magical energy felt, the mage saw the result of his energy's work, and he was pleased.

The sheriff of the village of Soren began to die. Anyone who saw the sheriff drop to his knees quickly ducked into the nearest building so as not to be seen by the wrathful elf. No one bothered to watch even from within the relative safety of a building. They knew that there would soon be a dead body laying on the boardwalk, waiting for someone to dispose of it.

The sheriff felt the draining of his lifeforce by the necromancer's magical energies. Desperately he tried to tear his hand from the mage's deadly grip, but his strength failed him. With his other hand, he tried to draw his sword, but before he could get it out of its scabbard, his body was paralyzed from the neck down, and the sword dropped harmlessly to the ground.

Wanting to know who was about to end his life, the sheriff managed to gasp: "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" The mage growled savagely. "I'm Raithe! I walk in death!" Grinning triumphantly, the mage cast his Age spell on the dying man again and again, revelling in the sensations of the flow of energy through his body. Soon the sheriff of Soren was nothing more than a tortured corpse.

Satisfied with his job, Raithe started off toward the jailhouse to inform Tol of the deed.

A dark figure watched the death of the sheriff from the shadows of the alley across the street. Impressed with the evil power of the mage, the young officer decided to go to his home. Let his superior officer deal with the elf themselves, if they could, which he seriously doubted. At least he would be around after the final battle to make a deal with the necromancer, a deal that would be much more to his liking. The man chuckled as he started off down the alley.

The necromancer found Tol in the sheriff's weapon room, looking over the various swords stocked there on the racks and shelves that crowded the small room. A lantern set atop a wall mounting threw a yellow light in the room that reflected off gold and silver plated swords shields and axes. Other weapons, darts, daggers, bows and their cousins, the crossbows were also stored here.

Raithe noticed that the young man's back was to him. "Your first mistake," the mage thought silently.

"I've done it." He said impassively.

"Done what?" Tol asked, looking at the necromancer over his shoulder.

"I've killed both the mayor and the sheriff," Raithe replied, "and completed my end of the crime."

"With three others thrown in as a bonus," Tol quipped, his back still facing the mage.

"If that's the way you see it," the mage stated, "then yes."

Tol casually turned around and took a short sword. He held it up to the light of a lantern that was sitting in a holder on the wall. He carefully tested its balance, weight, and edge while the necromancer looked on in interest.

"So," Tol said. "It is now time for me to take over this village, since there is no mayor or sheriff, and I am next in line."

"Yes."

Tol smiled. "Well then," he said, "with you as a witness, I proclaim myself both mayor and sheriff or the village of Soren." He paused. "And my first duty as sheriff of this village is to place you under arrest for the murder of the mayor, his family, and my dear colleague, the sheriff."

Raithe looked at the young officer, not totally surprised by this turn of events. However, the mage had a secret weapon that he had been saving for just this occasion, should it occur.

Tol continued, "and since I have heard evidence of your plot to kill these people, and since I have indeed seen the results of your plot, my first act as mayor, and therefore chief judge of the village of Soren is to pronounce you guilty of murder. The penalty is death." Tol smiled again, pleased that his plan had worked so perfectly. "The sentence will be carried out immediately." Tol swung the sword he was holding into an attack position.

Raithe, shaking his head, simply stepped back into the hall to avoid any possible swings of the sword and said one word: "Melkurion!"

With a brilliant flash of light, Raithe's demon familiar sprang into being in front of the stunned man. At this point in his career of evil, Melkurion was about half the size of a normal demon of his age and expertise. He was hunched over and scarred from his many lost battles with the forces of light, but he was slowly recovering his lost strength, and for now, he was content to serve a novice mage like Raithe.

Whatever the circumstances of Melkurion's existence were, his appearance before Tol in his present form almost scared the life right out of him on the spot. The demon had rather reptillian-looking red skin, a muscular build, two horns that jutted out of his forehead, large claws, and even larger fangs.

Tol simply dropped his sword and backed up into a corner in utter fear.

"Don't kill him yet." Raithe commanded. Melkurion looked back at his master, his grotesque face plainly showing his disappointment, but he carried out his master's wishes. Soon Tol was laying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, barely alive, with five deep gashes in his chest and other smaller wounds all over his body. Blood spurted from the chest wounds as the heart tried to continue the life of the mortally wounded man.

Raithe went over and knelt near Tol's face. "You fool," he sneered. "I wanted control of this town, but you could've run it while I was away, which is going to be most of the time! " He paused, then, "you could've had it all, but now you have nothing!"

The dying man grabbed at the necromancer's neck, attempting to catch Raithe in his final fatal grip, but the mage whispered, "Melkurion, finish him." The demon then crushed Tol's head under his large, scale-covered foot. Raithe was then freed by the twitching spasms of the dead man's nervous system as it died down. Raithe searched Tol's decapitated body after sending Melkurion back to his home plane. In a pocket, he found a black amulet upon which silvery magical runes were inscribed. The circular amulet was carved out of a piece of black crystal and even without the magic stored within the runes, the amulet was quite valuable. Knowing a valuable piece of magical equipment when he saw one, Raithe pocketed the amulet and then left the room.

Gyrich, a member of the town guard, answered Raithe's posted ad for a new sheriff. The stout young man, with long black hair and bushy eyebrows now sat across from the dark mage who had killed the mayor, the sheriff, and his immediate superior, who he had betrayed by disobeying his orders. He was now bargaining for the job that Tol could've had.

"You will be the sheriff of this village," Raithe stated. "I see no need for a mayor, so while I am here, I will watch over your work. When I am away, you will have complete control."

Gyrich grinned evilly. "I'll rule this town with an iron fist for you, sir!"

"No!" Raithe replied sharply. "That's not what I want. I want you to run this village like it has always been run. I don't want anything to appear out of the ordinary to either the people of this town, or anyone who visits. You'll find that secrecy is the best atmosphere in which evil flourishes. I want you to keep our overthrow of the legal government here a secret."

Gyrich's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Yes,sir."

Raithe reassured his new sheriff. "Don't worry." He said. "You will still be able to have your fun, but only to the extent that it does not disobey my order."

"Now," the necromancer said pleasantly as Gyrich's face brightened, "let's go post this new law." He stood, picked up a rolled parchment and went outside, his hand draped over Gyrich's shoulder.

The new law was soon posted in the village square. It read:

"To all citizens of the village of Soren,"

"There is to be no interference in the affairs of the sheriff, his aides, or his agents. To do so risks a slow and painful death."

As Gyrich was posting the new law, the necromancer was looking around, guaging the reaction of the people milling about. Most people only glanced at the new law, and finding that it really did not interfere with their lives, they quickly moved on. However, Raithe noticed a group of white-robed monks talking secretively amongst themselves. Every so often, one of them would glance cautiously at the death mage ond his henchman.

Finally, one of the monks mounted a nearby horse and sped off, heading out of town toward the large hill to the east.

Raithe and Gyrich chased after the remaining monks who scattered in fright. Gyrich finally managed to catch one. When Raithe came up to Gyrich, he was holding the monk with his hands pinned behind his back. The necromancer noticed the gold-embroidered symbol of Verena, the scales of justice. The man was nearly bald, and his blue eyes clearly showed his fear as the death mage approached.

"Where's your friend going?" Raithe demanded with a look of contempt on his face.

After the man didn't respond, the mage backhanded him across the face. "Answer me!" He screamed.

"He went to inform..."

That was all Raithe needed to hear. He rushed to a horse, jumped on it, and rushed after the fleeing monk, leaving the other monk to the mercy of Gyrich's sadistic wrath. The necromancer tore up the hill on speeding hooves, swiftly leaving the village, the cemetary and the large hill behind him. Soon the tall trees of the forest were flying past him in a blur of the greens, whites, and browns of aspens in spring. As he rounded a turn in the trail, he saw the monk ahead of him on his white horse. The terrified monk, looking behind him and seeing the dark mage in pursuit, spurred his horse onward. The mage also urged his horse to run harder, faster.

Both monk and mage were fast approaching a bridge that crossed a ravine. Unfortunately, the bridge which was extremely old, had fallen into the chasm a day earlier. Raithe had seen the notice of the destroyed bridge when he and Gyrich had posted the new law, and the notice, which asked for volunteers to help replace the bridge, but the monk, who was still speeding toward the gorge, apparently hadn't seen the notice.

Raithe didn't know whether the monk would make the relatively short jump or not, so he kept up the chase. A large tree had fallen across the trail near the bridge and both riders jumped it, but that jump took some of the momentum away from the more important jump across the ravine.

The monk decided that he could make the jump, or at least, that to attempt the jump was better than facing the furious death mage racing behind him. He quickly prayed to his goddess as he launched his fine steed into the air, hoping that Verena would give the horse the strength to make it across the chasm. However, Verena was the goddess of learning and justice and could not intercede on her monk's behalf. Even as the monk's mount soared gracefully through the air, he knew that he would not make it. The horse slammed very ungracefully into the cliff wall on the other side of the ravine, its front hooves catching on the edge of the chasm. Alas, the horse didn't have the strength to pull both its weight and that of the monk to safety, so both mount and rider fell away from the edge, and plunged to their deaths.

Raithe too approached the ravine, but instead of attempting to make the jump, he slowed his horse to a halt. He looked down into the chasmand saw both the monk and his horse. Neither moved. Satisfied with the knowledge that the secret of his deeds was safe, Raithe grinned grimly, then turned his horse around and headed back toward Soren.

A dark-robed half-elven traveller rode along the rural trail at night, headed for the large port city of Gelia, which was located a few days journey from the sleepy village of Soren. Around his neck, the elf wore a black crystal amulet, and he hoped that in Gelia, he could find out what powers were stored in this mysterious item. The adventures of Raithe of the Vale of the Shadow had begun.


End file.
